


Who's the Boss?

by keysburg



Series: Agent Carter S2 [11]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Canon Het Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, I Blame Tumblr, I just like being able to use that tag, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, hello from the bottom of the trashcan, i should add more tags but i'm already late for work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 16:21:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6383725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keysburg/pseuds/keysburg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the season finale, poking fun at Peggy ends up being a good way to start something.  There's just one thing that still needs to be decided...</p><p> </p><p>  <img/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Who's the Boss?

“I thought by now, you’d know better than to poke at things in Stark’s lab,” Daniel said, watching while Peggy unlocked their front door. 

“I--I should. I really have no excuse. Except that it was shiny.”

Contrite was a good look on Peggy. She was slightly disheveled, wearing a borrowed dress that strained a bit in the chest. Instead of perfect curls, her hair hung loosely, still damp from the emergency shower she’d taken at Stark’s. Daniel had fared a bit better. He’d been standing back far enough when Peggy pierced the membrane of that _thing_ that the goo only hit his face and chest. Daniel had been able to get away with leaving only his shirt and jacket behind for a promised dry cleaning. A minor problem for him, as it was warm enough that he was comfortable even in just his undershirt and pants.

Peggy had been close enough it had come down on her head, which she probably deserved. Even Jarvis had to bite back a laugh afterward. The orange custard-like substance gave the impression she had been hit with a particularly lurid pie. 

They headed for the bedroom, Peggy clearly eager to get out of her borrowed dress. Jarvis’ assurances that it was clean didn’t quite allay her fears about its point of origin. Entering the room, Daniel went to sit on the settee against the wall.

“I’m glad you understand that. It’s important for my employees to admit their mistakes.”

“You’re not my supervisor,” she said, hands on her hips. 

“As your fiance,” he continued, untying his shoes, “I like it when you tell me I am right.”

“Well, I am definitely not going that far. It’s not like it was as dangerous as you suggested. And I did say I was sorry.” 

“Mr. Jarvis did say they had no idea as to the long-term effects. So I might be right. Better tell me so, just in case.”

It was hard to keep a straight face. Daniel saw when it clicked, her irritation fading. He stripped off his undershirt and when he looked at her again, her expression implied he was about to get eaten alive. He felt like a gazelle being stalked by a lioness, watching her muscles coil and her hips shift as she strode across the room. He felt his stubbornness--and other things--rise in response. 

“You infuriating, arrogant, beautiful wanker.”

His huff of laughter was cut off by her lips on his as she landed in his lap, her weight on her knees straddling his legs. Her kiss was searing, almost suffocating. After a minute he had to pull back, dizzy with it. She responded by taking a big nip of his bottom lip. 

Well, that wasn’t going to stand.

Daniel retaliated by sliding his hand under her dress where it crept up her thighs. He pressed his fingers against fabric already growing damp, stroking lightly. Peggy moved into his touch, dragging the ill-fitting dress over her head as she did, her brassiere soon joining it on the floor. His skin buzzed in anticipation, remembering how she felt against him. As she bent over to capture his lips again, she dragged his free hand up to cup one breast. 

He pressed back into the kiss, but slid his hand from her breast around and down over the swell of her bottom. Daniel snapped the strap running from her garter belt to the top of the stocking. Jumping, Peggy gasped into his mouth before pulling away. She moved backwards off him to stand in front of his legs. 

“Daniel Sousa. Just who do you think is in charge here?” He had to smile at her, standing there with her hands on her hips. He would never understand how she could summon so much authority wearing nothing but her underwear and stockings. He was almost ready to do as Peggy said, whatever she said. Almost.

“I don’t think that’s been decided yet. We both have great qualifications,” he said, eyes roving over her as he stood. “Why don’t you make your argument, and I’ll make mine?” He made quick work of the button and fly on his trousers while he spoke.

“Only if I get to go first,” Peggy said.

Of course.

“As you wish,” he said, sitting back down to work his trousers off.

She didn’t wait for him to deal with his boxers as well. Peggy just sank to her knees in front of him, tugging them down underneath the straps and belt holding his prosthetic on. She left off as soon as they were down far enough that she could wrap a firm hand around the base of his cock and pull it free.

Her lips wrapped around him made a very convincing argument indeed, as did the swift pace she set. Daniel let his hands twine in her hair and tried to relax against the back of the couch. The steady rhythm built a growing tension in him as she slid down to take as much of him as she could and then pulled up, tongue swirling. Despite his fight against it, the edge crept up much too fast.

“Peg,” the warning in his tone clear.

She paused, and then slid off so slowly it was almost painful, like she was daring him to resist. Daniel managed to hold off somehow, hands going under her elbows to pull her up. She stood, stepping forward as if to climb back on his lap, until he stopped her. He unclipped the front of her stockings from the garter belt instead. 

Turning her around so she faced away from him, he slipped the rear straps of the belt off the stockings as well. Daniel rolled each stocking down carefully, careful not to catch on anything, as Peggy shifted her thighs together. She shoved the belt and underwear down impatiently as soon as she stepped out of the second stocking. He wrapped his hands around her legs, fingers resting just above the inside of her knees, and she stilled as she straightened. 

A little tug and press of his fingers to guide her, and she stepped backwards, still facing away from him. Her hips shifted as she took a moment to find her balance, straddling his legs. He could see the reflection of her face in the dresser mirror on the other side of the room. She looked a bit uncertain, and Daniel was swamped with warring desires to both soothe her and press her a little further.

“Close your eyes,” he said. “Put your hands behind your head.”

Peggy did as he asked, the flush on her face and chest getting a little darker, the set of her mouth still uneasy. Daniel moved his left hand to curl on her hip, stroked her inner thigh with the knuckles on his other hand. He marveled as she trembled under his hands.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, still stroking. 

“Needy,” she answered, hips shifting, trying to press her thighs together to catch his hand at the apex of her thighs. “Vulnerable. A spy never gives anyone her back.” 

“And how lovely it is, too,” he whispered, moving his left hand up to run it down her shoulder blade, her ribs, the nip in her waist. She curled into his touch, like a cat, before his hand rested again on her hip. “I know that’s why you prefer to give direction. But you know I’ve always got your back.”

“Yes,” she said. He watched her swallow, and her face melted into pleasure as he slid two fingers between slick folds. Daniel could feel her shifting against his hand, but he watched only her face, watching her mouth drop open and throaty little gasps work their way free in time with his strokes. 

“Daniel, I want you,” she panted. He couldn't help giving her nub a little flick, revenge for earlier. 

“Of course, sweetheart.”

He slid his hand to grip the base of his aching cock, his left hand still on her hip signalling her to move down. She went slow at first, careful with her balance, until she felt him guide them together. She dropped out of view of the mirror as she seated herself firmly around him. Daniel barely noticed, fighting to keep the fire racing up his spine from ending everything right there. 

He took a much needed moment to pull in a few shaky breaths. Peggy swayed a little, from impatience or imbalance. She had been very patient, and now he’d better make his case. He brought her arms down by her sides, brushed her hair to the side so he could press a kiss to the back of her neck. 

“Go ahead, _minha linda_ ," he whispered, relishing the way her breath caught before her legs tensed, pressing her feet harder into the soft carpet. He felt one hand grip his left thigh above his knee, and a little tug on his prosthetic. The drag of the socket against his flesh was uncomfortable--just at the edge of pain--before she adjusted her balance and began to move. 

The benefit of this position was that it left both his hands free, and Daniel wasted no time in bringing them up to cup her generous breasts, to roll their stiff peaks between his thumbs and fingers. Peggy moved a little swifter in response, although the awkwardness of her position prevented her from going too fast.

He waited until she started to lean forward, taking him deeper. Then Daniel dragged one hand down between her folds again, feeling her clench around him as he pressed against her. He fought the rising tension, the motion of her body an irresistible siren song to his. It finally broke but his accompanying groan must have touched something off in Peggy. He dimly registered her series of soft cries, each announcing the pulse of her muscles around him. 

Relaxing back against the settee again, Daniel went to pull her back to him, but she shifted carefully into a standing position, legs wobbling. Peggy shifted to the side, careful not to jar his prosthetic. Settling back down into his lap, one leg thrown over his right thigh. He wrapped his arm around her to pull her back to his chest, her body heat a shelter from the chill growing in the room. 

“I can’t tell who won,” he murmured. 

“Neither of us lost,” she pointed out. “I guess we’ll need a rematch.”

He was looking forward to it.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd kindly by the lovely indigowild!
> 
>  [Suggested Reading Order for my canon compliant post S2 fics](http://katiekeysburg.tumblr.com/post/162241330814/ever-wonder-what-order-my-post-season-2-agent)


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